Back to The Start
by Evenbe
Summary: Brittany has admitted Santana and she have slept together, but that doesn't mean they're dating. Or does it?


**Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but belong to Ryan Murphy. I'm merely borrowing them.**

**I haven't read a ton of fanfiction involving Brittana, and I'm sure this has probably been done many times already, but I recently rewatched the first season of Glee after not seeing it for three years and felt an urge to write all the scenes that were left out between these two characters. I was planning a series of vignettes to fill in the blank spaces between the on camera interactions throughout the series, but this one ended up being really long, so I may just leave it at this. It's based on the episode "Sectionals" where their relationship is first revealed. In a very vague way and then not addressed for like a full season afterward. Anyway. Enjoy!**

"Sex is not dating," Santana said into her cell phone, keeping time with Brittany's step down the narrow hallways of McKinley High.

"If it were," Brittany breathed into hers, "Santana and I would be dating."

Silence.

Santana's stomach clenched uncomfortably when her mind had had a chance to wrap around Brittany's words and she felt her palms begin to sweat. Her brain seized functions and turned cold. Brown eyes flicked to the right and glared in shock at the blonde's blank expression. Her heart picked up speed when she registered the breaths of four separate, stunned people in her ear, but her thoughts remained frozen and she had nothing clever to say.

Through the silence Santana took mental note of who had heard the confession. Mercedes and Kurt were definitely on the phone. Who else? Tina. One more person. Artie was there, too. Still not speaking.

She finally blurted what she thought was a continuation of the conversation as she remembered it. Something about Puck knocking up Quinn and Sectionals. She stopped paying attention after the conversation picked up speed again. Santana hung up her phone in a daze, turning on her heel to walk in the opposite direction of her best friend.

Brittany caught up to her and tried to link arms, clearly still oblivious to her most recent faux pas. Santana stiffened and jerked her arm closer to her body, closing the gap to nothing, forcing Brittany to drop her arm at her side.

"Is something wrong?" Brittany asked quietly, leaning in close. Santana halted in her steps, nearly causing an accident, as the kid behind her flung his upper body backwards in order to not run into her suddenly stilled back. Santana's head whipped around quickly and took in her surroundings. Three people were already staring. Fantastic. She grabbed Brittany's arm and pulled her forcefully into a nook between rows of lockers.

"Do you not even realize what you just fucking said?" Santana hissed, head bent in close and eyes on fire. Brittany's blank stare was answer enough and Santana sighed in annoyance. There were moments when Brittany's cluelessness was adorable but in these moments it made Santana want to strangle her.

Santana held a hand up to Brittany's face, palm out. "I can't even deal with this right now." But before she could storm away, Brittany grabbed her bicep in a gentle grip, holding her still.

"Wait is this about the us dating thing?" _Wow. Clarity._ It had only taken her five minutes to register her words. Santana's answer was to glare even harder. Brittany shifted uncomfortably on her feet under the intense and locked stare, for a moment showing signs of self-consciousness. Santana waited for the cogs to turn behind Brittany's scrunched up forehead and leaned back, crossing her arms and lifting a leg to rest behind her flat against the wall. She was clenching her hands around her opposite arms so tightly she could feel the blood rush from the area and her fingers cramp. Brittany finally sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and glanced back into Santana's closed off face.

"Maybe they didn't hear me?"

Santana rolled her eyes, lifted the strap of her backpack higher onto her shoulder, and shot away from the wall, not stopping until she reached her next class. She dropped her backpack on her desk in the back row and leaned her head onto it, letting her eyes close. She felt pinpricks up and down her spine, imagining every person in the room staring at her. When she finally lifted her head she saw Tina turned around in her seat in the front row watching her curiously and Santana gave her the coldest glare she could muster. Tina jerked her head to the front and sat up rod straight, pulled her arms onto the desk and clamped her hands together. She looked like a little kid afraid of being reprimanded by the teacher and something about the vision gave Santana a mild satisfaction.

By the time the history teacher, a mild mannered man in a brown suit and horrific tie his grandchildren must have given him for his birthday, entered the room and laid his books on the desk, Santana could feel a tension easing into her temple and knew a throbbing headache wasn't far behind. As Mr. Hansel began to drone on about the Civil War, Santana dropped her head into her hand, elbow resting against her desk, and tried to keep her eyes open and nerves calm. It was difficult to focus because she knew Mr. Hansel didn't look closely at his students, he was always so caught up in his lectures. She could take a nap and he wouldn't notice.

_If it were, Santana and I would be dating._

Her eyes clenched shut and that familiar sweat broke out across her scalp and seeped into her clenched palms. Her vision behind closed eyes became colorful and vivid as a night three weeks prior was pulled to the front of her mind and quickly arranged itself into images. A party at Puck's house. The night of the victory of an important game.

_Brittany's moist lips pulling away from a red plastic cup, a grin spreading them wide, eyes alight with a naïve sparkle. Cheerleaders and football jocks are pressing around them, laughing loudly, jostling and thrumming with life. Beer is poured into cups from a keg in the corner that Puck had somehow gotten an older friend to buy for him and passed quickly around in the thin plastic cups that wet hands with condensation and make loud dull clanking noises when brushed against teeth._

_Santana tastes bubbles and bitter but clenches her nose shut and gulps her beer down in one motion. The boy on her right throws his arm up in salutation and cheers her on, calling down the line to "pass the lady another one." Santana wants to twist the boy's sharp nose upside down and force his own cup of beer down his nostrils. But then a second cup is pressing into her hands and she's occupied with stomaching another cup of the cheap stuff._

_Brittany is watching her, expressionless, lips clamped shut now, eyes big. She leans forward from her place on the floor between Santana's knees and her hair brushes Santana's inner thigh, sending a shock through Santana's middle which explodes into her fingers, down her toes, up to her scalp. It startles her and she grabs Brittany's ponytail and flips the hair over the blonde's other shoulder where it bounces and unfurls then curls back into its normal spirals._

_Brittany looks up at her and smiles at the contact, flipping her hair onto her back. Santana is mesmerized again by the way Brittany's soft hair that looks like sunshine bobs up and down before settling back into a curl. Brittany reaches up a hand and crooks a finger, beckoning Santana in close. Santana leans forward until her chest lays flat against the tops of her legs and tilts her head in close to Brittany's mouth. "You look cute tonight," Brittany's whispers into her ear. The breath that hits the side of Santana's face tickles and warms her to her center. She can feel herself blushing. She pulls back slightly and smiles at Brittany, her eyes connecting with Brittany's clear blue. _

_She's startled by the boy on her right, some asshole friend of Puck's probably that doesn't go to their school, who whistles loudly and yells out to the room "I think the cheerleaders are about to kiss!" Santana sits straight up and swings her arm out to connect with the asshole's chest, her elbow digging in deep. "Ow, fuck." She's satisfied with his howl of pain. She avoids Brittany's eyes and starts to down her second cup._

The teacher had asked for the class to hand in the previous night's assignment but Santana didn't realize she was in class until she heard the students to her left and right rustling their papers and handing them forward. Santana dug into her bag and quickly pulled out the assignment then threw it over the shoulder of the girl in front of her not waiting for her to reach her hand back. She then let her head fall onto her backpack and waited for the teacher to begin his lecture. When he started up again, she lifted her head and tried to pay attention, desperate for a distraction from the memories, but she had already let them in and they were pulling her back to that night again.

_Five cups of beer and a full stomach later and Santana feels a familiar pressure on her bladder. Without waiting for a break in the conversation around her she slips her hand into Brittany's armpit and lifts firmly, standing as she does it. The result of the motion is that she is standing flush against her friend, arms pressing into the girl's waist. She pushes Brittany forward and mumbles "bathroom". Brittany turns and giggles into Santana's face. "You drank those so fast!" she murmurs in wonder._

_The boy Santana has been sitting by reaches out to her and asks "where you going?" but she bats his hand away. "Fuck off," she says in irritation and it gets a rise out of the surrounding boys. Puck shouts out, "watch out for the temper from that one," and she flicks him off, not even bothering to look in his direction. Laughter fills the room and presses against Santana's eardrums, seeping into her brain. Fuck all of them._

_She steps around Brittany and stumbles for a moment, trying to settle into the new sensations an intoxicated blood supply provides. Brittany follows closely at her heels and settles her hand into Santana's lower back when Santana continues to struggle to put one foot directly in front of the other. She also tugs Santana's cheerleading skirt down where it had crumpled beneath her on the sofa and hiked up slightly in the move to stand._

_The hallway condenses in Santana's vision into only the necessary objects and angles. The length of the hardwood floor, the wall slanting to reach her hand when she pushes against it to steady her balance, the picture frames she avoids bumping against as she shuffles along beside them. She reaches the door to the bathroom and is grateful it's swung open and dark beyond. She falls against it but Brittany tugs at her waist, keeping her standing and centered on two feet. The door closes behind them and Santana realizes too late she's forgotten to switch the light on before shoving it closed. Brittany giggles loudly and Santana feels laughter bubble into her own throat as they both fumble along the wall, hands stretching, reaching, grasping for the light switch. Brittany has pushed herself against Santana's back and their hands and arms bump against each other, skin brushing smoothly. _

_Their laughter has overtaken them and Santana gropes for the sink, resting against it and feeling for the toilet, afraid she'll end up pissing on the floor. She pulls her skirt down as Brittany continues to fumble for the light and sinks onto the toilet moments before an accident occurs. When she's finished she tugs her skirt back up and stretches her arm out blindly for the faucet. Instead, she grasps Brittany's hand. This sets off their laughter a second time. "You still haven't found the damn switch?" Santana breathes out past a snicker and Brittany sounds forlorn when she answers with, "it was funny but I'm getting scared. I really don't like the dark." Santana laughs a second longer before realizing by the tone of Brittany's voice that she means it. This side of Brittany is always on the surface so it shouldn't surprise her, but the extent of her vulnerability jostles Santana off center. She holds tight to Brittany's hand._

"_Hey, it's just us in here. In a bathroom. No boogie man," she tries to lighten the mood with a smile and realizes Brittany can't see her. In her alcohol hazy mind, Santana decides the only way Brittany will know she's smiling is if she presses her lips to Brittany's. She smashes her face into the space where she can feel and hear breath coming from and their noses connect harshly, and foreheads bump together. "Ow," Brittany moans. Then, "What was that? Was that supposed to be a kiss?"_

_Santana pulls her face away, horrified and feels her cheeks begin to burn, but doesn't have enough time to respond before Brittany reaches up with blind hands and finds Santana's face. Santana feels soft fingers tickle her lips. "You missed," Brittany giggles against Santana's mouth and before she can register anything, their lips are pressing together. Brittany's lips are soft and wet and Santana can feel heat emanating from her cheeks. She smells apricots and mint and beer and her breath hitches in her throat before rushing out her nose._

_Brittany pulls away and continues giggling but Santana remains still. Her skin is reaching towards the space Brittany occupies and she thinks for a moment it's going to jump off her body and attach itself to Brittany. Before her brain catches up she pushes her hands against the back of Brittany's neck and smashes her lips against Brittany's a second time. A surprised "mnff" vibrates against Santana's lips but never leaves Brittany's mouth. Santana's hands against Brittany's neck slide slowly up to the nape of her hair, then up further to cradle the back of her head. Brittany opens her mouth in surprise and pulls in a breath and that's when Santana slips her tongue past her lips to lick at the opening of Brittany's mouth. _

_Brittany's hands, which have been motionless at her side slide up and grasp at Santana's waist, digging into the folds of her skirt and tugging down slightly to get her balance. Santana feels the band at her waist pull a fraction of an inch down her skin and something in her unhinges. She's pulling against Brittany's mouth with her lips and thrusting her tongue into the hot depths that she hasn't realized until now have fascinated her for months. She's wanted this. She didn't know she wanted it until this moment and now that it's happening she can't control the need that's overtaken her._

_There's heat everywhere now and gasps and pants fill the room and echo off tile and a hand is slipping under her skirt and running along her thigh. She can feel a tightening happening underneath the lips between her legs and it sets her on fire. She leans back against the sink and tugs Brittany closer. Needing her closer. It's not enough so she slips her hands up Brittany's shirt and cradles her waist in them. She's pushing and pushing and the shirt is suddenly up above Brittany's bra. Santana grasps the clasp of the bra and it springs open. And before she knows it she's got a girl's bare breasts pressing against her shirt and she didn't know it could feel so hot. _

_Brittany is reaching between her legs but seems unsure what she's searching for until she presses a hand against the band of Santana's panties pressing against her swollen lips. Santana can tell she's wetter than she's ever been in her life and the tightness between her legs is begging for release. Brittany's fingers slip sideways beneath the panty line and connect with her clit and Santana throws her head back and moans. Minutes of grinding against Brittany's quickly moving fingers brings Santana close to orgasm, but suddenly there's a knock on the door and Santana's body splits from her mind and it's her mind that's in control again. The shock of the interruption have quickly sobered her and brought her down from her aroused high. She tugs Brittany's hand out from under her skirt and pushes her roughly away. In a moment of clarity her hand reaches steadily for the light switch which she suddenly remembers and knows the location of because she's been in this bathroom many times before. "What?" she snaps loudly towards the door as the light blinds her and Brittany, and throw the bathroom into an ugly florescent glare._

"_I need to pee, hurry up," comes a male voice she doesn't recognize. "Calm down, asshole. There's a bathroom on the second floor. Use it." An angry grunt answers her shout but she hears footsteps stomp a retreat down the hallway._

_Santana can't look at Brittany. She glances down at the tile of the bathroom floor, which is white and glaring and hurts her eyes after the time spent in blackness. Brittany reaches a hand to her waist, but she bats it away and continues to refuse eye contact. "Hey," Brittany begins, but before she gets anywhere, Santana is pulling the door open and stumbling out. "I, um," Santana mumbles "I'm wasted. I should get Quinn to drive me home." _

_She looks for a moment into confused, blue eyes, nearly closed from a combination of squinting in the new light and drooping with arousal. Santana hesitates a moment, but her body is already propelling her out the door. She leaves Brittany where she stands, shirt pushed up to her armpits, bra unclasped, breasts exposed, without letting her respond, and stumbles down the hall._

Santana had lied. She hadn't found Quinn. She had run back into the living room, grabbed a surprised Puck's hand and dragged him upstairs to his bedroom on the second floor amid howls and shouts from the boys, all congratulating Puck. There had been an awkward moment sitting upon his bed in which she almost stood and bolted before he could touch her.

He was watching her curiously, eyebrows knitted together, trying to figure her out. It had been months since she had so much as flirted with him. They had had a few nights together within the past year that always left her feeling empty, but she enjoyed having his warm arms surround her afterward. She wanted that now. She could still taste Brittany on her tongue and that was what had made her grab his face and lick into his mouth, trying to erase the memory. He hadn't made her nearly as wet as Brittany had and she had faked an orgasm to get him off of her.

She had pulled Puck's blue and red plaid comforter over her head and tried to calm her spinning head enough to fall asleep. She then lay in his bed for two hours wondering if Brittany was still in the house, what she had done after Santana had left the bathroom, how she would find a way home. She was haunted by the look on Brittany's face as she had slipped out the bathroom door. She had stared after her with such confusion and surprise, maybe expecting her to be kidding or to change her mind. Her half naked torso made the vision sad in Santana's memory.

When Santana found she couldn't sleep, she had stumbled to redress herself and walked through the house to the front door. The house had been empty of awake people when she left, though some remained sleeping on couches and the floor. Brittany wasn't in the living room and Santana hadn't searched for her. She had stepped outside and walked home through the chilly night air, sobering under the street lights, the cold air lifting her skin into goosebumps.

The bell rang, bringing Santana to the present again. She had missed every word the teacher had been saying for the past forty-five minutes. She quickly copied down the assignment that was written on the board in the front of the room and made her way to the library for her study period.

Mercedes shared the same study time, so Santana quickly made her way to the back of the library to avoid bumping into her and grabbed a table in a corner surrounded on four sides by bookshelves. She shoved her mp3 buds into her ear and cranked up the volume of Rihanna's "Te Amo" before realizing what song was playing and quickly skipping to the next song.

She lay her head on her backpack and tried to nap. Instead the images started running their unstoppable course again. Brittany and Santana met up most Sundays for "study time" which meant Brittany copying half of Santana's homework while Santana tried in vain to explain how she answered the questions. Brittany had showed up at Santana's place right on schedule. Santana hadn't been positive whether she would be there. It had been two days since the party and they hadn't spoken since.

"_Why did you leave?" Brittany asks bluntly as soon as they're settled on Santana's bed. She stares right into Santana's face. That's the thing about Brittany. She doesn't show bashfulness in awkward situations. It's usually Santana's favorite part of her friend, but the awkwardness has rarely affected Santana, who is usually above it or not involved in caring. Brittany' is staring at Santana with an open expression, but her voice had been sharp, clearly ready to pierce the truth from Santana._

"_I told you, I was wasted." Not just deflecting, flat out lying and she knows it._

"_So?" The bluntness again. Santana wonders what she wants her to say. "So I needed to leave. I was drunk and tired." She shrugs and doesn't meet Brittany's eyes._

"_Why didn't you wait for me to leave with you, though?" Brittany's voice is almost pleading this time. _

"_Because I just didn't, okay? I'm not your mother, am I?" Santana snaps. Brittany's face falls and her shoulders slip forward in a hunch. Her chin dips into her chest. She's sitting with one leg bent under her and the other swinging over the edge of Santana's bed, her hands pushed into the bed in front of her. Her fingers clench at the bedspread and her arms tense up and straighten, pushing harder into the bed. Her bangs are hanging in her face, covering her expression but Santana hears her breath hitch in her throat and knows a sob was just stifled. _

_Santana's heart drops into her stomach. The room is warm but she's suddenly chilled and she feels her hands become clammy and her scalp breaks out into a cold sweat. Her heart picks up speed, but she's frozen in place. When Brittany sniffles, Santana's hand moves without her command and settles on Brittany's knee. They sit in silence for a few moments. A tear drop falls from Brittany's face into her lap and suddenly Santana has to act. Do _something_._

"_Hey," Santana slips forward on the mattress until her knee is pressed against Brittany's and she reaches a hand to squeeze Brittany's arm. "I didn't mean that to sound like that."_

_Fuck. Santana feels so bad at this. Brittany is shaking now with repressed sobs and sniffling louder and more frequently. Santana's heart and stomach are cramping in on themselves and she just wants the pain to stop._

"_Hey. You don't need to cry over this," Santana squeezes her eyes shut when she realizes how horrible that sounded. "I mean, this is dumb. I'M dumb." Even worse. "Fuck. Just, please don't cry. It makes me sad when you cry."_

_Brittany's hand comes up to wipe her tears away and when she's done she looks up at Santana. Her face is lax, tears welling up in her eyes and slowly spilling down again. Santana wipes them away then cups Brittany's cheek in her palm. "I'm sorry, okay?"_

"_Why did you leave me there?" Her voice is so small and she's looking at Santana like a puppy that doesn't understand why she's being reprimanded. "Because I was scared." Santana almost clamps a hand over her mouth at her confession. Brittany's looking at her curiously now, waiting. Instead of explaining, Santana leans forward and presses her mouth to Brittany's._

_Brittany tastes salty like her tears, and she feels so much warmer in the sober afternoon. Santana can actually feel her own body fully this time and the electric shock that shoots down her limbs is new. Her fingers are still pressed against Brittany's cheek and she can feel wetness there and the smooth satin of Brittany's skin. Brittany responds to her kiss, pushing then tugging at her lips. Santana feels Brittany's clogged nose vibrate on a quick in breath and the sniffle is amplified as it reverberates between the closeness of their faces. She pulls away then leans in to push her mouth to first one cheek, then the other, kissing away Brittany's tears, before moving back to her lips._

_They lick their tongues out at the same time and meet in the space between their lips. Santana pulls her mouth away a fraction of an inch to let their tongues play for a moment in the air before sucking Brittany's bottom lip into her mouth. Brittany moans and with the sound and vibration Santana's body sets on fire. She tugs at Brittany's shirt, pulling her closer, lifting it up and off. She begins to pull at her clothes in desperation. She's been remembering this and wanting it again for two days and this time her hand finds Brittany's breast. Her skin tingles at the contact. She can feel herself getting wet and that familiar tightness is back again._

_Brittany tugs Santana's shirt off and before Santana knows it, her bra is landing next to Brittany's on the floor and she's being tugged into a shirtless embrace. A moan seems to shoot up from somewhere between her legs and it leaves her throat and passes her lips into Brittany's soft hair. She pushes Brittany back into the bed, tangles their legs and begins to roll her hips into Brittany's. Brittany wraps her arms around Santana's back and begins pushing her jeans down with her feet. They're soon naked and pressing against each other and Brittany is all around Santana and in Santana and licking Santana and somewhere in the middle of it she grabs Santana's hand and pushes it between her legs. Santana's brain malfunctions at the sensations that assault all of her senses at the contact with Brittany's smooth wetness._

_The next thirty minutes are a blur of wet and heat and friction and pleasure so intense Santana thinks her mind might split in two and she'll never be the same again. In some ways, she's right._

"Hey Santana!" Mercedes found her half-way through the class and dropped her backpack next to Santana's head. Santana sunk her head further into her crossed arms, her face pressing tightly against her backpack. Her mp3 playlist ended about ten minutes ago and she could hear Mercedes elevated voice clearly. Her stomach cramped.

"I need help with this math assignment. Have you done yours yet?" Mercedes was not about to leave her alone.

"I'm trying to sleep," Santana said into her backpack, her voice laced with knives.

"Wow, someone clearly got up on the wrong side of the bed." Mercedes didn't seem worried in the slightest by Santana's mood. Usually the fact that Mercedes' attitude matched her own impressed Santana, but she really wasn't in the mood. She angrily dug in her backpack and pulled out her math folder, plopped it down in front of Mercedes, and collapsed back onto her arms.

The rest of the class passed in silence as Mercedes checked her paper against Santana's and scribbled quietly beside Santana's bent head. When there were five minutes of class left, Santana lifted her head, pulled her buds out of her ears and packed away her things. She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, daring Mercedes to mention what Brittany had admitted over the phone earlier in the day. Mercedes checked her makeup in a compact mirror and slowly packed her things away, but said nothing. It was unnerving Santana.

She was speaking before she knew what she would say. "Brittany is being weirder today than usual. We've never had sex before. Maybe she imagined it or dreamed it or something."

Mercedes looked at her as if she had been speaking in a foreign tongue. "What?"

Santana wiggled in her seat and felt her palms begin to sweat. "That thing she said earlier. About us dating. It's not true."

Mercedes' expression relaxed into understanding. "Oh, that. Whatever. I don't think anyone really paid much attention to that. Just one of those weird things Brittany says."

Santana glared at Mercedes. Did she think Brittany was _that _stupid? Then she remembered she had just tried to make her seem that stupid to cover up the truth and wasn't sure why she was angry. But Mercedes' comment had nevertheless rubbed her the wrong way and she kept glaring until finally Mercedes actually started to look uncomfortable. Her eyebrows converged in the middle of her forehead.

"What's with you today?" Mercedes wanted to know. Before she could come up with a heated response, the bell rang and instead Santana stood violently and yanked her bag up her arm before stomping away. She only had one class left and was glad it was gym because she would be busy moving and focusing on her body instead of her mind. The memories wouldn't follow her there.

The choir room was almost full when Santana arrived for Glee club after her last class and she walked in with her eyes down and quickly made her way to the back row. Brittany was clearly waiting for Santana to settle in next to her, her hand resting in the seat of the chair beside her and face turned expectantly towards her. Santana walked around the back row of chairs and passed right behind Brittany, taking a seat in the far right corner between Puck and Mercedes. She tugged her chair close to Puck and ignored Brittany's expectant face peeking around Kurt and staring down the row of glee club members at Santana.

When Mr. Schuester started rambling about Mrs. Pillsbury filling in for him for sectionals, Santana was beyond annoyed with everything and everyone in the room and snapped her frustration at the teacher. After being ignore, she settled back into her seat and prepared to ignore everyone back for the rest of the day. She was ready to go home.

Santana perked up slightly for Mercedes' goosebumps raising rendition of "And I Am Telling You" and cheered with the rest of the class. When she settled into her seat again, however, and the high that sharing an exciting musical moment with her peers had caused was beginning to settle, Santana felt herself sink lower than she had been all day. She could feel the thrum of excitement surrounding her, passing from smile to smile, but it seemed to pass over her. She felt disconnected from all of it that day and she felt her headache begin to return. Puck leaned back and draped his arm over the back of her chair and it made her back clench and prick in annoyance.

She turned her head to glance at Brittany, but Kurt's happy, smug, flamboyant face was blocking her view and she wanted to throttle him then and there. When had he suddenly gotten so happy? She could hear the taunts reaching her from her inevitable future. Invitations to make out with guys' girlfriends, 'dyke' shouted at her in hate. The sexual harassment, the humiliation of having nothing to throw back at them. The possibility of her grandmother's disappointed face was the last straw in her reverie and she could feel her armor tightening and strengthening around her, turning from tin into heavy lead, suffocating her already tight breaths.

Before Mr. Scheuster dismissed them, she propelled herself from the room and ran down the hall towards her locker. Her head was throbbing now so it took her a moment to register the pounding of footsteps catching up to her and she whipped around when she was two hallways away from the choir room. She was ready to pounce on whoever had followed her until she saw Brittany standing expectantly, arms limp at her sides, expression open. Always so open. Never judging or believing she knew what would happen next. Just waiting. Waiting to find out what life would throw her way and inevitably catching it and making the best of everything.

Santana knew in that moment she didn't deserve that level of open acceptance. She would never be capable of returning it. So she decided to shut it out before they both got themselves irreparably injured. No more snuggling on Sunday afternoons. No more hand holding or loving embraces in the dark. Just sex. Sex wasn't dating. They had both agreed. Emotion free. Attachment free. It was the only way to survive it.


End file.
